


Meat-ing For Drinks

by SmolDargon



Series: Adventures in Anatomy [7]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cultural discussion, Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, mild tipsy japes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:48:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29983794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolDargon/pseuds/SmolDargon
Summary: Papyrus tries to broaden his culinary horizons by trying human fare.
Series: Adventures in Anatomy [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205429
Kudos: 3





	Meat-ing For Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> Less anatomy, more culture, but it's the same general idea, so it stays in the series.
> 
> Mild TW for mention of gutting an animal carcass, no details presented.

Papyrus was used to getting stares from other humans. The human, however, seemed greatly concerned. She met every look of surprise from strangers with a death glare, as if daring them to say anything about her skeletal companion. He pretended not to notice; she had always been a protective sort, and if it made her feel better to be a sort of buffer between him and other humans, he wouldn't stop her. She had suggested this restaurant, noting the apparently high-quality steaks. Papyrus didn't really understand the human fascination with meat, but she assured him that the protein was a necessary part of human diets, and the taste was phenomenal. Even so, he was more than a little suspicious of her tastes. Once, she had found a deer carcass on the side of the road, and he'd walked in on her gutting it in her backyard. Apparently, she routinely ate roadkill. She insisted that it was perfectly safe under certain circumstances, but he remained suspicious of any meat she had cooked. Add that to her general inability to so much as boil water without incident and.... best to just not eat anything she made.

They'd barely had a chance to peruse the menu when their server appeared, requesting drink orders.

"I could go for a Jamaican Cowboy", she said, presenting the waitress her ID.

Papyrus was unfamiliar with the mixed drinks served here, and asked for something a little fruity. The waitress just nodded, suggesting something called a "Kenny's Cooler". The human agreed it was a smooth drink, so he accepted the suggestion.

"I HAVE TO ADMIT, THIS DOESN'T EXACTLY STRIKE ME AS YOUR TYPE OF PLACE. I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU LIKED COUNTRY MUSIC."

She gave a shy smile.

"I used to listen to nothing but country. Of course, that changed when I was introduced to Metallica as a teenager, then I listened to nothing but hard rock for a while, then I had an Imagine Dragons phase…. These days I listen to most everything. Except country. Good luck finding a song that's not about bar crawling, trucks, religion, fishing, or trying to get back with a woman."

They looked over the menu together. Meat was not a necessary part of monster diets, and in fact, most monsters were either vegetarians or simply preferred not to eat it. Of course, humans needed protein and most of them got it from the flesh of dead animals. It was an uncomfortable concept to a lot of monsters, Papyrus included. However, he recognized the difference between killing an animal for survival and killing another sentient creature for sport. He didn't mourn the loss of a deer or a cow the way he might have mourned a dear friend's passing. He simply didn't like to take part in the killing. Besides, the human was right; the items in the menu certainly did look appetizing. In the end, he decided to start off easy, with a chicken-based meal. Steak, the human had noted, was something some humans ate at varying levels of doneness. Some humans wanted it cooked through, others liked it still bleeding. That idea was _very_ unnerving for the skeleton. She assured him that she preferred her steaks cooked, though there would likely still be red in the center.

The server returned with their drinks, and they placed their orders. The human apparently ate her steak something called "medium rare". He was reminded of that roadkill she had cooked, and remembered that it had been completely cooked through.

"SO, IF YOU PREFER YOUR STEAK TO STILL BE RAW IN THE MIDDLE, WHY DID YOU COOK THAT DEER UNTIL IT WAS ALMOST BURNT?"

"Oh, deer is wild meat. Cattle are raised on farms specifically for eating. They get medical care, including deworming and antibiotics. Deer just roam around and can't be handled. Ergo, they are often rife with parasites. Cooking them thoroughly is not optional. I don't really like well done meat, but it beats the hell out of starving."

He was taken aback by her bold statement, fixing her with a look of concern.

"IS MALNUTRITION WHY YOU'RE SO SHORT?"

He regretted the statement immediately after it left his jaw, but she just laughed.

"Maybe? No, it's honestly just genetics. I'm the shortest in the family. Even my ten-year-old cousin is almost my height, and she will absolutely surpass it in time. I grew up living with grandparents, remember? For a while, the one had a job and the other received government assistance. Once papaw retired, he too collected government assistance. It's not much to live on, honestly. Most of our meals were cheap. Hot dogs, instant potatoes, the cheapest pot roast money could buy… and of course, whatever roadkill we could scavenge and as many squirrels and snakes as we could shoot. We were never in real danger of starvation, but I'm willing to bet that's because they did such a phenomenal job of keeping their finances and situation secret. After all, I knew nothing else. This was normal to me, and it never struck me until I was an adult that scraping dead deer off the road out of necessity wasn't something most folks did."

"BUT YOU MAKE ENOUGH NOW TO SUPPORT YOURSELF, PLUS EXTRA. AND YOU STILL EAT ROADKILL?"

She shrugged, grinning wryly.

"Old habits die hard. And frankly, it's a bit nostalgic for me. And…"

She trailed off, as if considering whether to continue. He leaned in encouragingly, but the look on her face suggested that she was about to drop something particularly dark.

"… Sometimes I just like to think I'm proving that bastard wrong. That what I had with his parents was a thousand times better than what he could have given me with his better-paying job. It never mattered to me whether I was eating roadkill or filet mignon. I'd have eaten crickets if it meant staying away from him."

She shook her head, clearly wanting to move away from the subject. It seemed everything she did tied into her childhood in some way, and she clearly was making big efforts to reclaim those memories into something happier.

"Anyway, you said this is the first steakhouse you've been to?"

He was still concerned at how easily she seemed to hide her pain, but decided now was not the time to press her on it. Clearly some things were better left forgotten.

"YES, I'VE HAD MEAT BEFORE AT SMALLER PLACES. GROUND BEEF, MOSTLY, I THINK. BUT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I'M TRYING AN ACTUAL SLAB OF MEAT. IT'S A BIT UNNERVING, HONESTLY, BUT I THINK I FEEL BETTER ABOUT EATING POULTRY THAN AN ACTUAL ONE-TON MAMMAL."

She smiled gently, "Yeah, a lot of people prefer one type of meat over others. I'm actually partial to seafood. Growing up in Cajun country will do that to you. Crawfish boils are practically a rite of passage. Everyone raised down there just has some weird ancestral knowledge of how to do it. It's basically the only thing I can cook properly. I'll have to do one for you guys when they come in season. How do you guys feel about spicy foods?"

He leaned in, giving her a sly grin.

"I'VE BEEN KNOWN TO ENJOY A LITTLE KICK TO MY FOOD NOW AND THEN. HOW SPICY IS IT?"

The human actually made direct eye contact, something she normally only did as a threatening gesture.

"If you had lips, you wouldn't be able to feel them after eating my crawfish."

He balked at her directness. She seemed completely serious.

"Although, I suppose I could make them a little milder for you if it's a problem…"

"THAT WOULD BE GOOD. I DON'T THINK 'DINGS OR SANS LIKE THINGS TERRIBLY SPICY."

She just laughed quietly to herself. He was truly transparent when it came to the mundane things.

"How's your drink?"

He'd almost forgotten about it. Their drinks had been served in what looked like miniature fishbowls. Hers was a faded orange color, his was blue with a cherry and an orange thrown in. It didn't smell terribly strong, but she had warned him that mixed drinks generally didn't. They were dangerous that way; you could have several before the alcohol hit you and by the time you realized your error, you would be vomiting in a public restroom. He took a sip, found it to be very fruity indeed. There was only a slight burn to indicate the presence of alcohol.

"THIS IS REALLY GOOD! WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY?"

She gently waved her hand and shook her head.

"Oh, I've had those before. They're one of my favorites. Just wanted something different today. Of course, you're welcome to try this one if you'd like. It's a little harsher."

He thought for a moment, but decided to stick with his own drink. It was delicious, and he could always try something else different when he finished. He was always amused by the fact that humans had a delayed reaction to alcohol. Monsters consumed food and drinks using magic, absorbing the effects directly into their souls. Thus, alcohol had a near-instantaneous effect, particularly on a monster with so little mass as a skeleton. They had ordered a second round and, while Papyrus could feel a pleasant buzzing in his skull, the human seemed largely unaffected. He was glad she was driving. Their food arrived, and it was just as delicious as she'd assured him it would be. He was still uncomfortable at the sight of her steak. It was indeed red in the center, though not actively bleeding. She said it was more tender and flavorful that way, but he wasn't convinced. He decided steak would have to wait. Partway through their meal, she'd ordered a third round of drinks.

"I AM ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT ON BOARD FOR A THIRD DRINK, HUMAN, BUT ARE YOU SURE YOU WILL BE ABLE TO DRIVE AFTER THIS?"

She shrugged.

"The trick is to eat a good meal, chug the third drink, and immediately drive the ten minutes home, so the third drink hits you right as you flop onto the couch. That said, I probably won't touch this third one until we're about to pay out. That's why I just ordered a beer this time."

"THAT'S FAIR."

He normally wouldn't advocate such risky behavior, but those drinks were starting to really feel nice. Certainly enough, she didn't touch her third drink until the server had returned with their cards and a receipt to sign. Then, she looked at him, asked if he was about ready to go, and, when he nodded his assent, grabbed her beer and chugged the glass in a matter of seconds. It was quite a sight to behold. A couple of bar patrons noticed, and seemed amused by the spectacle. She set the glass politely back onto the table, and immediately let out the loudest belch he'd ever heard from a human. Several of the patrons cheered at this, prompting her to bow slightly, before gesturing to the skeleton and working her way to the door. He was both disgusted and amused.


End file.
